"My baby. Babi, I promised myself I wouldn't cry."
Her dad, ever the dramatic one, clasped her hands tightly, while her other father stood behind him, radiating protective energy. No one in her family dared to whisper about the mistakes that had derailed her life, pulling her away from her purpose. She had abandoned school in her final year to chase a love she'd convinced herself was real—a love tied to a man she knew was manipulative. She had wanted to believe she was more to him than just a skilled killer and his disposable plaything, but deep down, she had known the truth.
Her parents, ever protective, had declared her disappearance a taboo topic—a silent agreement that kept anyone from addressing her choices directly. But this wall of silence came with its own price: gossip. Whispers swirled behind her back, cruel and cutting, as if her blindness meant she couldn't hear the judgment around her. This, more than anything, fueled her desire for distance. She needed to break away, to start over, to become the warrior she had once dreamed of being.
She knew her parents weren't ready to let go entirely—not until they were certain she'd find someone truly deserving of her love. Someone strong enough to carry the weight of her fractured past and help her restore a reputation she feared was beyond saving. But now, she wasn't waiting for anyone else to save her. She was ready to save herself.
With her departure to the Ivy League School of Potentials—a place steeped in her family's legacy—she could only hope her younger brother would grow up under the same loving guidance she had, despite his rebellious streak.
"Father," she said softly, her voice tinged with worry. "Tell him not to overexert himself."
Her dad smirked. "It's only been a month."
Her other father interjected, his voice calm and reassuring. "She's right, love. We raised her to learn the world's lessons on her own. Now, let's trust those lessons will mold her into the warrior she's meant to be."
She nodded, trying to hold back tears as she met their eyes. She knows he doesn't want her to be a prisoner to her temptation back home but she also gets why his also reluctant, they lost time. Her dad was Rapanzel— if she was an avatar prince with overprotective parents he refused to become. Her dad warned her of her decisions then when he let her go but he did not stop her reaping the consequences. And now, her dad is letting her go again to bloom like he got a chance to after he met her father. She knows it's hard for them as it is for her but no one can do anything about it because her fate has been written.
The balance of the world was shifting, and a war loomed on the horizon. Forces she barely understood threatened not just her but the earth itself. The weight of it all pressed down on her, but she refused to be crushed. If demons sought to disrupt the fragile peace of this world, she would stop them. She would kill every last one if it meant protecting the life her family had fought so hard to give her.
As she stepped into the unknown, her heart ached for what she was leaving behind, but her resolve was unwavering. No matter how hard the journey, she would face it head-on—not just for herself but for the world she vowed to defend before her fall.
Thankfully, she wasn't entirely alone in this new world. Her childhood friends, Cain and Abel, had also enrolled at the academy, though in different majors and they would be a grade above her own. She will be completing her last year at the academy— She's nineteen and in matric.
The realization sank deeper into her chest: she was nineteen and still in matric, stuck while the world around her moved forward. The thought made her stomach churn. It wasn't that she wasn't proud of them—she was. More than anyone, she knew how hard they'd worked to get here. Yet, she couldn't help but feel the pang of regret gnawing at the edges of her pride.
What had she done with all those years? If only she'd stayed focused, if only she hadn't made those impulsive decisions, maybe she'd be standing alongside them now, not a step behind.
It hurt. Watching them progress, knowing they'd soon be tackling the challenges of university while she was still grasping at the pieces of her own fractured journey. She wanted to cheer for them, to support them wholeheartedly, but the sadness lingered like an unwanted guest. What if they left her behind? What if this gap between their lives and hers grew too wide to bridge?
She shook her head, brushing away the intrusive thoughts. Cain and Abel were her constants—her anchors—even in her darkest moments. They thrived on freedom and chaos, so naturally, their alpha fathers had bought them a house to share nearby. For her, however, the added challenges of her disability made the prospect of living too far from campus impractical. She had opted for a dorm room, even as she carried her own boxes to settle in.
Cain and Abel's wild decisions always aligned with their chaotic personalities—and their... unconventional preferences. She hated letting her mind wander there. Where did they even find people interested in that? Shaking herself free from the thought, she snapped back to the present.
"I know," she murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips as she adjusted her grip on one of the heavier boxes.
The dorm room was unlike anything she had imagined. It wasn't just a place to sleep—it was history. Decades ago, her father had occupied this very room when he attended the academy. She wondered if the space had been deliberately set aside for her, considering she hadn't even applied for housing. Then again, she was a Donald—the princess and sole heiress to the family legacy. For now, at least. Her younger sibling, yet to be born, might one day share that burden.
Standing in the room, she allowed herself a moment of quiet awe, using her energy to map the space and feel its dimensions. "First day as an official student at the Ivy League School of Potentials," she whispered to herself, the words filling her chest with both pride and trepidation.
This wasn't just about her anymore. This was about honouring her father's legacy and reclaiming her own. As a Donald, she had no room for failure. Not this time.
She allowed herself a moment of gratitude. Her parents had never let her past mistakes define her future. And now, neither would she.